


Hold me fast.

by stelleappese



Series: Wallander [1]
Category: Wallander (UK TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-13
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-18 13:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelleappese/pseuds/stelleappese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt wakes up and finds out he's not alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold me fast.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic may sound weird, because it's been translated from the Italian version I'd written previously. Please, let me know if I made any mistake :)

The light is wrong. It’s been so long, now, that Kurt wakes up when just a hint of pink paints the white walls of his bedroom, in the good days, or in total darkness, when winter wraps up the city, silent and cruel.

Today, the soft light of a early autumn morning fills the room.

Kurt blinks a couple of times. His back and neck ache dully. The scar right under his heart tells him, with a light sting, that the weather is changing.

Like every morning since several years, Kurt stretches his arm towards the pillow next to his, expecting to grasp nothing; instead his fingers brush some hair. He turns his head, observing silently the figure laying by his side. He digs his fingers in the golden curls. It’s surreal, the men beside him, so peaceful and still. The golden light rains on him from the window, tracing with precision the lines of his face. Kurt lets his eyes brush him lazily. Jaw, cheekbones, nose. He’d like to wake him up, he’d like to be able to touch him freely, run a hand across his neck, brush a thumb against his jaw, trace his Adam’s apple with his tongue; but he doesn’t have the courage to take him away from such a calm sleep. He hadn’t been at all calm, the night before. He’d kept rolling, stealing Kurt’s blanket, whispering incomprehensible words.

Kurt can hear Magnus breathe in and out deeply. He can see his eyes shifting under his eyelids. He wonderds what he’s dreaming about. He hopes he’s not remembering something. He hopes he’s not pulling the trigger, again, and again, and again, even in his own head.

Then, suddenly, Magnus opens his eyes. From zero to a thousand, from sleep to complete consciousness. His eyes, blue, pale, smiling, stare at him, and Kurt feels like he’s never been looked at in such a sweet and delightfully peaceful way before in his entire life.

Magnus doesn’t move, he stares at Kurt, wrapped in the blanket. He just rests a hand on the one Kurt has between his hair. He closes his eyes and stretches out like a cat. He intertwines his fingers and Kurt’s. Takes Kurt’s hand against his lips, kisses the palm, soft and hot, then he guides it on his cheek and closes his eyes, pleased.

Kurt rolls on his side, trying not to move his hand. He throws his right arm around Magnus, he pulls him close. Magnus rests his forehead against Kurt’s jaw. Kurt can feel his breath on his neck, his eyelashes brush Kurt’s chin, filling him with shivers.

“What were you dreaming about?”

Asks Kurt, his voice still thick with sleep and something else, something delicate, warm, sweet. Magnus moves a bit. He smiles. Kurt can’t see his lips, but can see the smile in his eyes, in the way his eyelids lower lightly, in the light wrinkles at the corner of his eyes.

Knowing Magnus, he’s probably biting his lower lip mischievously. Kurt has seen him do that last night. Both his hands pushing on Kurt’s chest, his thighs laced tightly around Kurt’s hips. He’s seen him bite his lips tilting his head, his blond curls swaying softly, his blue eyes, so damn blue, hit directly by the light of the desk lamp looked almost transparent.

“I can show you.”

Says Magnus, in a whisper, his voice low and warm, every trace of sleep completely gone.

Kurt feels an abyss at the pit of his stomach, something stirs furiously in his chest.

He brings his right hand, open, against Magnus’ lower back. He presses Magnus against himself.

“Yes.”


End file.
